


Cake and Coffee

by ssorrell



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bickering, Episode Style, Gen, except the romantic kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssorrell/pseuds/ssorrell
Summary: Written as part of a trade on tumblr with peeblestheowl, who wanted to see Kirk and McCoy having coffee in between work shifts.





	Cake and Coffee

As soon as the mess hall doors slide open, Kirk knows it’s too late.  Neither of his backup plans will work - he knows that too.

His options, now, are to just finish the cake quickly while McCoy looks him admonishingly in the eye, or to stand up and slide it into the nearest reclamation bin. Either way, there will be leftover frosting on his plate, more than enough to solicit a lecture from Doctor McCoy.

He presses his fork deep into the frosting and twists it, causing the cake to crumble.  When McCoy takes the chair beside him, he scoffs at his plate and picks up his mug of coffee, instead.

“Can I say ‘good morning,’ Bones?”

McCoy shrugs and makes an equally indecisive sound.

“We’re halfway through gamma shift, you know,” he explains.

“Right,” Kirk says.  “Last I checked, 0200 passes for morning.”

McCoy gives him a sideways grin.

“It was the ‘good’ part I was disagreeing with, Jim.”

“I don’t know what I expected.”

Kirk meets his eyes, trying to stall them on their way to the plate.  

“No good?” McCoy asks, looking at the crumbs.

Kirk shakes his head unconvincingly, and McCoy continues.

“Hmm.  I didn’t remember writing that into any of your breakfast options.”

“I’m on _lunch_ ,” Kirk’s voice is light, and McCoy would find it condescending if he didn’t know Kirk so well.

Kirk takes another evasive sip of his coffee, and offers to get a cup for McCoy, who declines with a wave of his hand.

“Suit yourself,” Kirk says.  “You looked like you could use something to wake you up - aren’t you on in an hour?”

McCoy reminds himself to bring up Kirk’s annoying habit of ‘helping’ Spock write the schedules (really, just reading over his shoulder) another time.

“Please,” Bones replies, “I haven’t let caffeine anywhere near your diet program for _years_.”

Kirk swallows slowly, betrayed, and sets down his cup.

“It’s in Yeoman Rand’s,” Bones offers, in place of an apology. “She’s usually the one to order for you, anyway.”

“I guess I’m supposed to say that’s thoughtful of you, hmm?”

“Well, I was doing it to keep my commission, not to fish for compliments.  So you can say whatever you like.”

Kirk is only playfully upset, and knows he’ll get the best results by pouting at his drink.

McCoy sighs - he knows all of Kirk’s plans and backup plans and whatever else he wants to call them.  He reaches for Kirk’s fork, swipes the frosting off with his fingers, and tips it toward Kirk’s folded hand.

Kirk accepts it and scoops up some of the ruined cake, mirroring McCoy’s particular smile as he does so.

“I think you know me too well, Bones,” he says.  Then he takes a bite.

“I certainly know more about you than I ever _wanted_ to.”

Kirk laughs and prepares another sample of the cake, which he presents to McCoy.  He rolls his eyes and leans in, but ultimately accepts.

“See, it’s not so bad,” Kirk insists, “even if it _is_ made of vitamins and proteins.”

“Could hardly tell,” but McCoy’s preference for non-replicated food is still clearly evident.  

“Oh?” Kirk jokes. “That’s because you aren’t a dessert connoisseur.  I make a point to try every recipe in the catalog.”

McCoy watches him as he takes another bite. 

“Good,” McCoy decides, “that should keep me busy through the rest of the assignment.”

“I’d prefer it to be real too, Bones, but a captain’s gotta take what he can get.”

McCoy cringes.  He’s heard this sentiment before; Kirk has used it in their past discussions of relationships, when they learned how greatly their definitions varied.

It hasn’t really stopped him trying, though, because he knows the rest of Kirk’s plans, and none of them include refusing him.  

“When are we due at Vulcan?” McCoy asks.  He is not desperate to change the subject, but instead to spiral back to it as quickly as possible.

“Start of Beta,” Kirk says offhandedly. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing.  Spock speaks highly of their sponge cake, you know, so I thought maybe I’d find you a piece of it.”

“Spock?” Kirk confirms, eyes wide and glittering, “Really?  He doesn’t seem like the type to--”

“It’s their approximation of vanilla,” McCoy affirms. “Topped with honey, or something.  You’ll have to let him explain it.”

“Yes,” Kirk is satisfied.  “I’ll do that.  I’m looking forward to whatever you come up, Bones.”

“Believe me, so am I.”

Kirk finishes his coffee, and only leaves after patting McCoy’s shoulder.


End file.
